Tully sat back down. They both knew there was nothing she could really say to that. Tully still bore the scars of a bad mother. “Women can do both, you know. This isn’t the fifties.”

“My mom went on every field trip I ever took. She was a helper in the classroom every year until I begged her to please stop coming. I didn’t take the bus until I was in junior high and still remember talking to my mom on the ride home after school. I want my child to have all that. I can always go back to work later.”

“And you think that will be enough for you—carpools and field trips and classroom-volunteering?”

“If it’s not, I’ll find something else. Come on, it’s not like I’m an astronaut.” She smiled. “So, tell me about your job. I’ll live vicariously through you, so make the stories good.”

Tully immediately launched into a hilarious story about her most recent assignment.

Kate leaned back and closed her eyes, listening.

“Kate? Kate?”

She was so lost in her thoughts it took her a moment to realize that Tully was talking to her. She laughed. “Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“You fell asleep on me. I was telling you about this guy who asked me out and when I looked over, you were out like a light.”

“I was not,” Kate said quickly, but the truth was that she did feel drowsy, kind of light-headed, too. “I think I need a cup of tea.” She stood up and swayed precariously, reaching out for the back of the couch. “Wow, that was—” In the middle of her sentence, she looked at Tully and frowned. “Tully?”

Tully got to her feet so quickly, she knocked over her margarita. She put an arm around Kate, steadying her. “I’m right here.”

Something was wrong; a wave of dizziness struck her so hard and suddenly that she stumbled.

“Hold on, honey,” Tully said, moving her gently toward the door. “We need to get to a phone.”

A phone? Kate shook her head in confusion; her vision blurred. “I don’t know what’s happening,” she mumbled. “Is this a surprise party for me? Is it my birthday?”

Then she looked down at the sofa where she’d been sitting.

A dark pool of blood stained the cushion and splattered the decking at her feet. “Oh, no,” she whispered, touching her stomach. She wanted to say more, pray to God to for help, but while she was grasping for words, the world tilted sickeningly and she passed out.

Tully forced them to let her stay in the ambulance. She sat by Kate, saying, “I’m right here,” over and over.

Kate was conscious, but barely so. Her skin was as pale as an old overwashed sheet; even her green eyes, usually so bright, were dull and glassy. Tears leaked down her temples.